And The Forbidden Fruit
by justlook3
Summary: Post "And The Drowned Book" Stone and Cassandra each have erotic dreams . . . .


"You're faster than the Internet, you know that."

Something in the way she smiled sparked something in Stone and before he knew it, he'd circled around the table, standing in front of her as she sat down to start to write. She looked up her eyes as blue as he'd ever seen them and he cupped her chin with one hand while taking the notebook out of her hands with the other.

She still hadn't said anything, just looked at him with those eyes of endless blue and he kissed her. It wasn't gentle and it wasn't sweet. But she responded as if she'd been waiting all her life for this kiss. She gave as good as she got, her mouth opening for him, her tongue seeking his. Her hands went first for his collar and then his hair as the kiss grew in passion.

One kiss after another, ragged breaths between, the only sound besides the howling storm outside were their breaths, soft kissing noises and the occasional moan. Stone's neck was starting to cramp from bending down to kiss her, so the next time they parted for breath, he circled his hands around her waist and lifted her from the chair to the top of the table. She grinned at his good idea and pulled him back into her.

Her hands went to his shoulders, pushing his jacket off and he stopped to remove it before stepping back into the circle of her arms and resuming his kissing of her. It wasn't long before he'd moved on to the soft skin of her neck while she worked the buttons on his shirt.

And it seemed like not much time later that the once cluttered table was clear and his shirt and her sweater were draped over the chair, his hands on the waistband of her skirt as he moved them horizontally on to the table.

She moaned his name and he pulled her skirt off, throwing it in the direction of the other clothes as he settled himself on top of her, capturing her lips once more.

They'd broke for air again and she smirked as her hand reached between them to undo his jeans . . .

And Stone jerked awake. "Cassandra?" he asked breathlessly, looking around his empty bed.

His head fell back onto his pillow as reality crashed around him. It had all been a dream. A fantastic dream that had left him sweaty and hard, his heart still racing and the feel of her lips still against his. He closed his eyes, trying to will the arousal away. He tried filling his head with thoughts about how it was just a dream, they weren't like that and how it was a really really bad idea to be attracted to your co-worker. About how in reality Jones came running into the room and nothing happened.

Nothing happened today except the look in his beautiful Cassandra's eyes when . . . oh no, no, no, she was not **his**. And the arousal wasn't going away. Especially now that his mind was filling his head with the thoughts of her in his arms briefly when she hugged him, her concern for him, her happiness to see him, the smell of her hair and of her perfume. And the reality was he had been flirting with her for that brief moment in the radar room and her smile had been more than encouraging. Had Jones not walked into that room . . . .

 _Damnit. Not helping._

He wasn't a teenager any more but . . .sometimes there wasn't anything else to do. Somewhat awkwardly because he had to use his left hand, he grabbed a handful of tissues from the box on his nightstand and left them on his stomach as he pulled up his tee-shirt. Then with a moan, he pulled down his boxers and took himself in hand. He settled back and thought of what he could remember of the dream as he stroked himself. His imagination let loose, moving past the point where he'd woken up.

And he came, crying out her name.

When his breathing evened out and his heart beat slowed, he wondered how he was even going to look her in the eye tomorrow.

* * *

Cassandra moaned, "Jacob," then reached over to the other side of her bed. When her fingers hit nothing but her pillow, she groaned opening her eyes.

Just a dream. A vivid fantastic wonderful dream. She and Jacob . . . . And she felt her face flush as the details of her dream came back in full force. Making love in that radar room instead of helping to solve the case . . . .

 _Wow, I wonder if it's really that good with him._

And then she felt her face flush with the thought. She was already so hot, she'd kicked off her sheets and she was covered in a fine layer of sweat. And she was aching for him.

Sometimes she could will something like this away. But something about the dream, something about the way Jacob had smiled at her today. My god, that wink that had sent her knees shaking.

Thinking about that wink did not help with the ache. Instead it grew and she felt her breathing and heart increase.

She closed her eyes and gave in to the desire. One hand under her tank top playing with a breast, the other hand slid slowly down her stomach and under the waist band of her pajama shorts and panties.

She gasped as she touched herself. And then imagined it was Jacob's hands touching her, bringing her to climax while he whispered something loving in her ear.

And then she shattered, crying out his name.

When she came back to herself, she wondered how on earth she was going to look at him in the morning.

* * *

Cassandra was early for the meeting at the Library, hyped up by the adventure, everyone being back together and mostly because of her dream. And yes, maybe she'd felt wanton enough this morning to do a little something different with her clothes. Her sweater was just a bit tight. Her skirt was very short. She'd worn shorter skirts in the past, but today she decided not to pair it with leggings or tights.

She was feeling very brave today. Very brave. She'd totally be able to look Stone in the eye when he arrived.

And when she saw him come into the Library, she blushed almost as red as her hair and turned away, pretending to study a manuscript in front of her.

So she didn't notice his jaw drop as he took in the length of that skirt or the tightness of that sweater. He'd woken up this morning with the resolve to put that lapse strictly behind him. Concentrate on the mission that Flynn had called them in on. But now he was going to spend the whole day trying not to think about how just plain sexy she looked.

 _She was going to kill him._

"Mornin' Cassandra," he finally said, trying to be polite.

The smile she sent him, she really hoped didn't look rehearsed. "Good morning, Jacob."

"You look um real pretty this mornin'," Stone said, rubbing the back of his neck without thinking and then wincing as he realized he'd used the wrong hand.

"Thank you," she said looking down and blushing just slightly. What was wrong with her? It wasn't like she was really with him last night. She could look at him.

But he was acting odd too, not quite meeting her eyes and looking bashful.

But she didn't get a chance to ask him if he was alright as Baird strode in, handing Stone the roll of gauze for his hand that he'd asked her for. And then Jenkins was arranging chairs and Flynn was rolling out the case board.

They both turned when Flynn asked them to take a seat, both standing too close together and Stone's hand grazed across her elbow.

She tried to stifle her gasp as the electricity coursed between them. She saw recoil and cradle his injured hand with his other one.

 _Of course, that probably hurt him. You're being silly, Cassandra Cillian._

"Sorry," she muttered.

"It's fine," he said back, making himself move away from her and pretending to check his hand. He was really trying to catch his breath from that bolt that had coursed between the two of them.

 _What was that?_

Of course, by the time he'd told himself it was nothing, the others had taken their seats. The only empty one was behind Cassandra and he had to either push past Jones, or walk between Baird and Cassandra.

He found himself taking the path between the two women. And as he did, he again passed too close to Cassandra, his leg brushing against hers. This time he made the mistake of looking down at her and their eyes met. Lingering there for a second too long and it was a good thing the others were distracted by Flynn. He was pretty sure his blush matched hers. Then he hurriedly took his seat, deliberately changing the gauze on his hand to avoid looking back at her.

 _God, this was going to be a hell of a day._

The End


End file.
